Ear to the ground: Ugliness of noise & the way out

By: Dr Neil Jain

A mother hears a baby cry when it enters the world — perhaps the most beautiful notes to her ears. We are surrounded by beautiful sounds: the purr of a pet cat, a baby’s coo, a nightingale’s song, waves crashing against rocks; regaling the symphonies of Beethoven, to the ‘taals’ of Tansen.


Yet it takes very little to descend into a pall of noise. The Cambridge Dictionary defines noise as sound that is unwanted, unpleasant, or loud. In other words, sound becomes noise when it stops delighting and starts disturbing.

Modern life generates noise in abundance. Unplanned urban growth has blurred the boundaries between residential and commercial spaces. We wake to the honking of school traffic; as the day unfolds, the din intensifies — office commuters, construction machines, and blaring loudspeakers layering one disturbance over another.

What does this do to us? The World Health Organization identifies noise as the second-largest environmental cause of health problems after air pollution. Excessive noise disrupts sleep, affects cardiovascular health, reduces productivity, and impairs children’s learning and development — sometimes with lifelong consequences.

Govt rules on permissible noise levels are clear and have been upheld by the Supreme Court. Silence zones (defined as 100 square metres around hospitals, schools, courts, and religious institutions) are meant to be protected spaces where honking and loudspeakers are prohibited. Permissible day time levels permit a maximum of 75 dB(A).

Yet rules alone cannot create quiet; only responsible citizens can. Like air pollution, noise is a public burden. Even those who do not create it are forced to suffer it. Ironically, schools, where children come to learn, play and grow, themselves mock the silence zones.
May we, as responsible citizens, make conscious efforts to reduce noise — honking less, respecting silence zones, and avoiding loudspeakers where they do not belong. Especially near hospitals and schools. May we aspire to wake to birdsong rather than blaring horns, to the rustle of leaves rather than the roar of machines.
Plato said, “An empty vessel makes the loudest sound.” Let us not be empty vessels. Let us aspire instead to be golden harps — producing soft melodies that are music to everyone’s ears.

Only then can we protect both our present peace and our children’s future.

(Writer is an IRS officer. Views are personal)